Magical Weddings (110 page)

“No, I was not,” he said. “I was determinedly unserious. But that was a long time ago.”

“Yes, of course,” Ana murmured, thinking back to her carefree childhood–before they had had money for dowries and the inflated expectations that had come along with it. “We all have to grow up, whether we like it or not.”

“Some sooner than others.”

Ana waited for more, but he remained close-lipped. “Indeed,” she murmured finally.

He shifted the position of his hand on her back and Ana shivered involuntarily. Was a man’s touch supposed to do that? She was quite certain it never had before.

“How do you find town compares to the country?”

“It is… more intense.”

He nodded. “Yes, that is a good word. People are compressed into smaller spaces and social events are more frequent and better-attended.”

“And on a much grander scale.” Ana glanced around the lavishly-decorated ballroom. “This is a far cry from our local assembly rooms.”

“Are you enjoying your excursion into glamour?”

Was there a fashionable answer to that? Most likely it involved some French phrase that Ana’s tongue stubbornly refused to master.

“I would be quite content to remain my whole life in the country, my lord,” she said.

He studied her closely, until Ana began to fidget and accidentally stood on his toes.

“Oh, I am so sorry!”

“It is no matter. One cannot spend the season in London and not have one’s feet stood on by a debutante.”

Ana flushed miserably. “Sadly, I have no such excuse.”

“I had heard this was not your first season. I would not concern yourself over that.”

She glanced wistfully at a group of pretty, giggling debutantes–who had not yet been given permission to waltz–standing by the edge of the dance floor. “Why not, my lord? Everyone else seems to.”

He followed her gaze. “Admittedly, I have not spent much time in town these past few years,” he said, “but I have met the wives of friends and acquaintances. Almost without exception, every lady that I judged worthy of my respect had more than one season before she married. I am forced to conclude that the majority of gentlemen lack understanding of the qualities that make a good partner in life.”

“I think that is because they do not want a partner in life.”

“Then they are fools.”

Ana looked at her feet. “I cannot disagree with you, my lord.”

“I, Miss Stanley, seek a partner.”

She looked up into his eyes, but saw naught by sincerity.

“I care little for London,” he said, eyes searching hers. “I have a single estate, where I normally reside year round, and manage to the best of my ability. But there are many duties that need a woman’s touch, and that is why I have come to London to find a wife.”

Ana could no longer match his gaze. “I am glad to know that there are such men, my lord.”

“Pray forgive my plain-speaking, Miss Stanley. I have little patience for social games.”

“Then we certainly have something in common, my lord,” she dared to say.

The dance came to an end and he offered her his arm for the walk back to Harriet. “I would call on you tomorrow morning,” he said, “but, if tonight is any indication, we would have no opportunity to talk. May I take you driving in the park instead?”

Ana’s knees began to tremble. “Yes, of course. That is, if Papa has no objection.”

He lifted her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it and, for the first time in her twenty years, Ana very nearly swooned.

****

No less than seven gentlemen came to call the next morning. By the end of it, the entrance hall of the Stanleys’ rented town house bore a striking resemblance to a florist’s and Ana’s head felt like it had been used to practice taxidermy. If this was how it felt to be an Incomparable, she was glad she had not had to suffer through it before.

She felt so drained she actually went for a lie down after luncheon, so had to call her maid to re-dress her hair ready for her drive.

“Ah, Miss Ana,” her maid sighed, holding up Ana’s thick and stubbornly straight locks, “you had better have your papa write it into your marriage settlement that you are to have a maid just to tame this mane of yours. It is a profession in itself.”

Ana’s heart began fluttering anew. She told it sternly to cease, but it paid her no mind.

In three years, she had never met a man like him; a man who not only seemed genuinely to be looking for someone like her, but who she actually thought she might want to be married to. She had been strictly schooled not to expect that, but now it was dangled in front of her… Could he? Would he?

She willed such thoughts away.

“Only a few more years and you will have Louisa’s to tend with.”

Her maid shuddered. “No sense in putting all that effort in for red hair–the fashion is never going to change to that.”

Ana opened her mouth to chastise her, but stopped when the housemaid came hurrying in.

“If you please, Miss Ana, there is a note for you from Miss Harriet.”

“I hope she is not having difficulty with the wedding arrangements,” Ana murmured, as she opened it.

She read the contents, at first idly but then with alarm.

“I must go to her immediately,” she said, jumping out of her chair.

“But Miss Ana, your hair is not half done!”

“I will tuck it inside my bonnet,” Ana said, grabbing the relevant object from her bed. “I must go now!”

****

“I just do not understand it!” Harriet wiped her red, swollen eyes on her handkerchief and huddled into the corner of the chaise like a frightened child. “Who would spread such wicked lies about me?”

Ana could think of several dozen without taxing herself. Not for the first time, she cursed Harriet’s trusting nature.

“And why? Why would anyone want to hurt me?”

“Jealousy, Harriet,” Ana said gently. “Lord Blakemore is an excellent catch and for you to secure him before the season has even properly begun and without… Well, there are plenty of sorely disappointed debutantes–and their mamas–who would be delighted if your engagement were called off. Have you spoken to him?”

Harriet’s tears began to flow anew. “He called this morning, just as the dressmaker came to fit my wedding dress. Oh, it was the most dreadful experience of my life.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me of the whispers he had heard at Whites, and then he told me he would not believe them so long as I told him it was not true.”

Ana moved to her side and hugged her close, giving up any pretence of proper behaviour. “Did you not do that?”

“I tried, Ana!” Harriet wailed. “But I was so shocked and mortified by what he said people thought of me, I could not seem to speak at all.”

“Oh, Harriet.”

“Then he prompted me and said he had seen me talking with Lord Harland at the ball.” Harriet huddled against Ana, snivelling onto her muslin dress. “That I had disappeared shortly afterwards for an age and no one seemed to know where I went.”

“Did you?” Ana asked, racking her brain to remember when that had happened.

“I tore my dress! Lord Harland himself stepped on it. I had to go and stitch it up.”

“You went alone?”

“Only as far as the retiring room. Then a maid accompanied me to the Dowager Countess’ drawing room to make the repair, for she had run out of thread.” Harriet suddenly clutched Ana’s arm. “The maid! She will surely confirm my story.”

Ana sighed inwardly. “Her word will not be enough. It will be said that you bribed her. Will not Lord Harland tell the truth of it? After all, if the rumours were true he would be honour-bound to marry you himself.”

“Charles says he left town early this morning to see to a problem on his estates. Perhaps if I sent him a letter…”

“No, that will be seen as proof of your intimacy with him.”

“Well, what am I to do?” Harriet cried, sitting suddenly upright. “Charles will surely not come here again when I so utterly failed to explain myself before. Oh, Ana, he must have thought my silence and blushes were signs of guilt, when all the time I was just too overcome to speak. I could write to him, but what if he will not read the letter? He was “not at home” when Papa called on him and he has not been to his club. If I went to his house myself I would be thought wanton, even if I were allowed in, and I cannot even appeal for help without seeming to confirm the rumours! So unless I see him at Lady Mersey’s ball this evening ―”

“Harriet, you cannot go. The rumours will be all round London by then. You will be discussed by everyone and they will cut you and the evening will be intolerable.”

“Sitting here and doing nothing while my whole future is taken away from me is intolerable! I will endure anything to have the chance to make things right. I would rather he gave me the cut direct than sit by and watch my happiness slip away.”

Ana took her cousin’s hands in hers. “Harriet, you are a brave and foolish woman.”

Harriet finally smiled. “That is the very definition of one in love.”

****

Viscount Stapleton seated himself back in his curricle, clipped the reins and set off along the street at too fast a pace for safety, heading for White’s and wondering what the deuce Miss Stanley was playing at. To be “not at home” when you had arranged to go driving with a gentleman was just not done. Surely she did not imagine herself above him? If so, she was in dire need of a set down. He was not about to make a cake of himself over a chit who played exactly the silly games he had told her he abhorred.

He settled himself into a quiet corner at the club with a drink and the newspaper, only to be interrupted moments later by Mr. Bridgeford.

“Not out driving the lovely Miss Stanley, after all,” Mr. Bridgeford said, sitting down beside him. “You have heard, then?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Heard what, precisely?”

“It is all around town. Her cousin, who somehow managed to get herself engaged to Blakemore, got caught out dallying with Harland at Lady Marcham’s ball last night.”

The sides of the newspaper crumpled under his hands. “Is that certain?”

“Do not know the source, but it has been reported as fact. No-one has heard from Blakemore, but no doubt he will be making arrangements to cry off. Probably thanking his lucky stars he has a valid reason. The chit is nothing at all, you know. Must have trapped him somehow, though no-one seems to have the story.”

“I understood it was a love match.”

Mr. Bridgeford shook his head. “Poor fool.”

Viscount Stapleton laid down the paper, smoothed it out and rose. “Pray excuse me, Bridgeford. I have just recalled an appointment.”

****

Ana pressed a hand against her aching head as she climbed the steps to their town house. The prospect of attending a ball that evening, as the focus of hoards of gossiping matrons, was only marginally more appealing than the smallpox. And what was to be done about the whole sad business if the earl did not appear, she did not have the slightest idea.

“Miss Stanley.”

She turned on the top step, her hand on the front door. Her maid moved quietly to one side.

“Lord Stapleton,” she said, heart lightening. “It is so kind of you to call. I am sorry I could not drive with you this afternoon. Mama will have explained the circumstances.”

“I saw only the butler.”

“Oh, I do apologize” Ana bowed her head. “She must have been so overset she had to take to her bed.” She hesitated, uncertain how much he knew. “I am afraid we are suffering a trial.”

He moved to stand at the base of the steps. “You are forgiven, Miss Stanley. Your devotion to your family is admirable. I have been apprised of the whole sorry business. I am sorry to see you in distress.”

“Thank you, but my distress is nothing at all to my cousin’s.”

He came closer and lowered his voice. “If the accusations are true, she has brought it on herself.”

“They are most assuredly not true!” Ana cried, entirely too loud. Several passers-by looked their way and she blushed.

He smiled. “Of course you think her a paragon.”

Ana shook her head. “She has faults like any other. One is that she is not always as guarded as she should be. She has a lively spirit, a great interest in people and a trusting nature, and she forgets that her behaviour may be misinterpreted.”

He was studying her closely. Ana lifted her chin and met his eyes.

“But you are her cousin, so your view is biased.”

“I am also the person who has known her the longest.” Ana clasped her hands behind her back to keep from wringing them. “She has scarcely any ability to dissemble. If she had done anything like what she is accused of, I would have known. Indeed, she would have confessed to me herself.”

She looked down the street. “This is why the season is no place to find someone to marry. I have known her for twenty years, but the earl has not known her twenty days. He has had time to fall in love, but not to be certain of her character. If he knew her as I do, he would dismiss these rumours out of hand.”

He moved again, until they were standing as close as propriety allowed. “Do consider,” he murmured, “that your cousin has few other supporters. If you stand with her, you risk being tainted by association and losing your own chance of making a good marriage.”

Ana’s stomach clenched. She had not considered it, but she knew he was right. If Harriet did not marry one of the gentlemen, they were both finished on the marriage mart. The viscount might dislike social games, but he was still a viscount. He would not offer for her. An image of Squire Porter’s thin, pale face floated in front of Ana’s eyes and her heart sank.

She blinked it away and lifted her chin. “She is family and my oldest, dearest friend. I will not abandon her to save myself.”

The front door to the town house opened and the butler’s head appeared. “If you are ready, Miss Ana, her ladyship is asking for you.”

Ana turned her head. “I must go to her. If you will excuse me.”

She did not wait for a reply.

****

When Ana, Harriet and Lady Stanley entered the ballroom, a rustle of whispers spread across the room. More than one lady gave them the cut direct when greeted.