Let Love Find You (12 page)

In much better spirits, Amanda returned to London with her cousin Rupert and his wife, Rebecca. They had stayed in the country a few extra days to visit with Rebecca’s mother, Lilly. Amanda was even able to talk them into escorting her to her second ball of the Season tonight. And her friend Larissa Morrise stopped by that afternoon to visit while Amanda was preparing for the Hammonds’ ball, to fill her in on what she’d missed the last few days.

Like most of Amanda’s school chums, Larissa had already married. She was also quite enceinte, five months so, and avoided evening entertainments because of it. But she still made daily calls to her friends who were in town, and like Phoebe, she loved to gossip. Devin Baldwin’s name was still on the tip of everyone’s tongue, apparently, though Larissa was the first to mention that a few of the younger debutantes had set their caps for him.

“Jacinda Brown, in particular, is bragging that she’s going to win him.”

Amanda stared at her friend incredulously for a moment before she scoffed, “But he’s a horse breeder.” She could have added,
And utterly lacking in refinement and rude to boot,
but then her friend would ask her why she thought so, and she’d rather not talk about her encounter with him at his horse farm.

Larissa giggled. “So? Nothing out of the ordinary in that, when so many nobles take up that interest. Horses, dogs, if it can race, it’s something they’ll bet on and get involved with!”

“And who is Jacinda Brown?”

“One of the debutantes this year, and a little too bold, if you ask me. She pretends to be more sophisticated than she can possibly be. But the latest
on-dit
is Viscount Altone, who will be making his very first appearance in London at tonight’s ball. They are saying he’s going to be
the
prime catch this year.”

“Why?”

“Well, he’s handsome
and
already titled. And his father’s a marquess,
and
rich.”

“Are you sure?”

“About what?”

“That he’s handsome?”

Larissa giggled again. “No, not sure a’tall, since I haven’t met him to verify that part. I’m just repeating what I heard yesterday. But there’s usually some truth to the gossip making the rounds.”

“Or none a’tall. And I’ve never heard of him before—” Amanda stopped and suddenly grinned. “Or have I? His name wouldn’t be Kendall Goswick, would it?”

Larissa shook her heard. “No, Robert Brigston is his name, but who’s Kendall Goswick?”

“A charming young man I met a few days ago.”

“Why haven’t
I
heard of him?”

“I don’t think he’s been to London yet. He just came back from Ireland, where he went to buy a horse. He told me all about it.”

And not much more, Amanda realized. That
was
all he’d talked about when they met. She groaned inwardly. She was probably going to have to forget about him—no, that hadn’t been determined yet.

Amanda said, “But I’ve never heard of Robert Brigston before.”

Larissa shrugged. “Neither had I, but that’s probably because his family lives in the north. Where was it?” She frowned, then brightened. “Essex, I think. No, it might’ve been Kent, or—never mind, it will give you something to ask him when you meet him, won’t it? But this is his first time in London, as far as anyone knows.”

Amanda frowned. “Not fresh out of the schoolroom, is he? That would make him younger than I am!”

Larissa made a face. “That’s quite possible, but
he
won’t know that. But perhaps he’s not. He could have been taking the tour of the Continent and only just returned. So many men do, before they start looking for a wife. But the moment I heard of him, I thought of you.”

Amanda sighed. Every single one of her friends had expected her to marry before them. Every single one of them, after she was married or engaged, had taken a turn at matchmaking for her, with a cousin or a brother, even a young uncle! Or like Larissa, just by letting her know whom to keep an eye out for. She knew they were only trying to help, and she loved them for it. But it only reinforced her feeling that she couldn’t manage finding a husband for herself on her own. She was a failure. Soon she was going to be an old maid. Was she being a little too critical of herself?

It was quite possible. After all, until she’d met Kendall Goswick, the only man these last two years who had sparked her interest even a little had been the Scotsman Duncan MacTavish, and
he’d
been engaged to Ophelia. They’d had an on-and-off engagement that had never progressed to marriage because he’d gone and fallen in love with Sabrina Lambert while he
and Ophelia had been figuring out that they just didn’t suit. All the other men that Amanda had met hadn’t been interesting a’tall—no, that wasn’t quite right, either. Some had been handsome, such as John Trask and Farrell Exter. Quite a few had been funny, making her laugh a lot, such as Oliver Norse. Oliver had been so friendly that she was still friends with him. But not one had drawn her eyes to him repeatedly or tugged at her heartstrings.

It
was
her fault! Was she too picky? Were her expectations too high? Well, she’d have to turn
that
about and right quickly. And yet, love was supposed to just happen, wasn’t it? She’d always thought that she’d know the very moment she saw
him
that she was in love. But if that was so,
he
was taking his bloody time making an appearance.

She glanced back at her friend suddenly and asked, “Did love show up for you instantly?”

Larissa laughed. “Goodness, no, it just sort of snuck up on me.”

“Then when did you know?”

“When that first Season of ours was over and I’d gone back home to Kent—and was missing Lord Henry so much I could barely stand it.”

“That’s right, you met him again in the spring, didn’t you?”

“Yes, at a country gathering. He proposed before it was over.” Larissa grinned. “He’d been missing me, too, something fierce.”

Amanda sighed to herself. That was likely the problem right there. She’d been expecting love at first sight, to simply know immediately when it happened, and because that didn’t happen, she’d given up on all those young men who might have suited her just fine—eventually. And all because she didn’t fall in love with any of them on a fantasized time schedule!

D
EVIN GLANCED AROUND THE
ballroom, taking note of the people he already knew. He spotted a few clients and was surprised to see Owen Culley. Not exactly where Devin would expect to find the elderly nobleman, although Mabel Collicott and Gertrude Allen, who were also up there in years, were in attendance. But he knew why
they
were attending this ball and every other major social event this Season. He hoped they’d steer clear of Blythe. The girl was anxious enough without having to deal with someone as bullish as Mabel.

“Don’t fidget, it makes you appear nervous,” Blythe scolded in a whisper.

He almost laughed. Blythe was the one who was nervous, her terse tones a dead giveaway. It was the only time she wasn’t a pleasure to be around. But Devin wasn’t about to point that out to her or her cheeks would turn red. He did want her to shine tonight, but not with embarrassment.

He knew why she was nervous. The invitation to this fancy ball had been sent to him, not her, and it was the first invitation
that had actually specified that he could bring only one guest. If not for that, he would have asked William along as well, though his friend claimed to have another engagement tonight that couldn’t be put off and had even asked if he could borrow Donald’s coach for it, since Devin and Blythe would be using the grand old Pace family coach tonight.

Thank goodness Blythe had been prepared and didn’t have to scramble at the last moment for a ball gown, as
he’d
had to do for his fancy duds. He’d never use
that
tailor again. But Blythe already had her wardrobe for the Season, which William was now in debt for. “Bloody expensive, getting a sister married off,” Will had complained more than once in the last months.

“It’s these new clothes,” Devin said, explaining his fidgeting. “They’re uncomfortable, stiff, scratchy.”

Blythe’s green eyes briefly moved over his black attire, broadcloth with velvet lapels. “They don’t look uncomfortable and they do fit you nicely.”

“The tailor lined them with wool! Raved about women having their petticoats made that way, so why shouldn’t men get an extra layer for the cold season, too. Bloody idiot.”

It was his own fault for having to find a new tailor who would work overtime when his regular man wouldn’t, and since he was already paying him extra for the rush, he didn’t want to spring for the extra expense of soft wool. But his exaggerated complaints did what he’d intended. Blythe looked much more relaxed now, even seemed to be holding back a laugh.

He added, “And might I say, you look quite fetching tonight.” She was done up grandly for the night in her pink-and-white ball gown. Blond hair, green eyes, plump in the right places, good bones, she wasn’t a beauty by any means, but she was pretty nonetheless, far more so than some of the other
young debutantes present. A little short, perhaps, but so were many of the men in attendance.

A slight blush touched Blythe’s cheeks. “You’ve already said, but thank you again.”

“And what’s that you were given at the door when we arrived?”

She showed him the little leather-bound booklet with their host’s crest on the front that she’d already attached to her wrist. “I know this is your first ball just as it is mine, but surely you learned about dance cards when you were taught to dance?”

Devin chuckled. “One of those classes I barely paid attention to.”

She gasped. “You
can
dance, can’t you?”

“I think I can manage that.”

“Well, the dance card includes a list of all the music that will be played by the orchestra tonight. There’s even a pencil attached. Go ahead, put your name next to one of the dances. That will reserve it for you.”

He felt like groaning as he did so. One more thing for him to worry about: Blythe’s getting her dance card filled. The problem was, this was a ball for debutantes and Blythe hadn’t been to enough parties yet to know even half the people in attendance. Devin was seeing a lot of new faces tonight as well. At first, he’d thought that Ophelia Locke had arranged this invite, which would mean Amanda would be attending, but the room was already quite full and the musicians were tuning up their instruments and he hadn’t caught sight of her, so possibly not.

The young men had been making the rounds, signing dance cards, but with the music about to start, they rushed at it now. Two of them whom Devin had already met stopped by with a greeting. Devin immediately introduced them to Blythe. They
signed her card, and moments later five more men came by to sign it as well. Well, that was a relief.

He grinned at her and teasingly checked her card again. Oliver Norse had even signed it twice. What had Norse’s interests been? Devin had met so many new people this week, he was going to have to start taking notes. Boating! That was it.

“Two dances for Lord Oliver? You might mention sailing to him while you’re twirling about the dance floor,” Devin suggested. “His family owns several yachts. He’s overly fond of the subject.”

Blythe’s eyes actually lit up, making Devin wonder aloud, “Do
you
like boating?”

She laughed. “I don’t know! But I’ve always wanted to find out. I tried to talk Father into buying us a little sailboat when I was younger, but he called it a frivolous expense and didn’t want to hear another word about it. So I saved and saved to get one of my own, but then our parents died and I knew Will was counting every copper, so I gave up on the idea.”

“So you
do
have other interests? Why did you never say?”

“I like gardening, too, but as for boating, what’s the point of mentioning things that I never expected to come to pass?”

Devin rolled his eyes. “Who says they won’t? And who says you won’t marry a man who likes doing exactly what you like doing?”

“Do you like boating?”

He didn’t hear the question. The first song had begun and the dance floor was now filled with waltzing couples. Amanda Locke chose that moment to step into the ballroom with her escort, a young man of exceptional good looks.

Devin hoped he was another member of her family. The chap was
too
handsome. What lady wouldn’t set her cap for
him if he wasn’t a relative? But Devin’s concern was merely the thought of losing the rest of Ophelia’s “gratitude” if Amanda had already made her choice without his recommendation.

He intended to try to talk to her tonight, to see if it was possible to even have a conversation with her without her temper flaring up. A ball was a perfect place for it, on the dance floor, temporarily alone, without her beaus surrounding her. He needed to find out if she was going to cooperate and take up riding again so she could be a suitable match for Goswick. If not, then Devin was going to have to find out a lot more about her before he could make any other recommendations for her.