One Moonlit Night (Moonlight Square: A Prequel Novella) (4 page)

Major Carvel’s ilk considered such suicidal ventures
fun
. Perhaps he was mad, Trinny mused. No doubt her friend had cause to worry.

“Oh, Mrs. Brown is waving to me,” Felicity said, waving back to the plump, matronly widow who lived with her and her great-aunt in Mayfair and helped care for the old dragon. “I’m sorry, I really have to go. Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“I’m fine! I told you.”

“Too bad, I do love this song.” Felicity glanced wistfully over her shoulder at the dance floor as the orchestra started playing another set. She sighed at having to leave early, as usual, keeping company with old ladies, but far be it from her to complain.

“I’ll walk you out,” Trinny said. She had no desire to watch Cecil Cooper dancing with his new fiancée or to stand alone by the wall while her younger sister skipped off with her beau, too.

“Oh, thanks!” Felicity said. “I think my aunt would like a word with you, anyway.”

“Uh-oh,” Trinny murmured with a knowing smile.

“I fear Her Ladyship has some advice for you.”

“No doubt.”

Felicity stifled a laugh, then they wove through the crowded ballroom toward the open double doors, dodging busy liveried footmen delivering drinks on trays. They had to fight against the tide of couples rushing to join the contredanse before it was too late.

Even Trinny’s parents were out there.

As she escorted her friend toward the exit, she could not fail to notice, by the brilliance of the chandeliers, certain pitying looks and head shakes from her neighbors here and there. But she flashed a bright, confident smile at the lot of them as she passed, determined to make them see she was not concerned about her future in the slightest.

Felicity suddenly gasped. “Oh God, she’s on the steps! Excuse me!” The normally demure girl began shoving people aside to dash protectively to the aid of her elderly kinswoman.

To be sure, the sweeping marble staircase that curved down into the entrance hall could have proved a danger to a frail-boned lady of advanced age who walked with a cane, no matter how much of a spitfire she might be.

While Felicity hurried into position to assist Her Ladyship down the steps, Trinny followed, rather wishing she could’ve told her friend about the kiss she had shared with Lord Roland less than a fortnight ago.

But it was probably best to be discreet. Her friend did tend to be a little straitlaced, and Trinny wasn’t sure what Felicity might think of her for letting him do that to her. She did not wish to alienate a comrade now that she had just found her way back into her sisters’ graces.

For, oh, yes, to her own surprise, and after much brooding on the matter, Trinny had decided to take the rakehell’s advice. As she followed her friend out of the ballroom, she mentally reviewed how it had all unfolded…

A couple of days after the kiss, she had called her parents together into the drawing room to have
the talk
with them, while her sisters eavesdropped outside the closed door.

“Ahem. Mama, Papa: I have made a decision,” she had said calmly and with great composure. She had then lifted up the prop she had prepared for the demonstration.

A neat white spinster’s cap.

She had adorned it herself with a fringe of white eyelet and a small blue ribbon tied around the crown. “Some women clearly are not meant to be married,” she had told them. “And I cannot stand in the way of my sister’s happiness anymore. So I’m afraid you must pardon me from the so-called necessity of finding a husband. I do not wish to marry,” she had declared. “I will undertake to pay you back slowly for the expenses I incurred with my unnecessary Seasons, for I do not wish to be a burden on the family, either now or in the future.”

Mama’s mouth was already hanging open, but Papa had blustered at once that she was nothing of the kind. Trinny had rushed on before she lost her nerve. “I have devised a simple and ladylike way to bolster my own income henceforth. I will discreetly sell the hats I design to a few of the better milliner’s shops.”

Mama had covered her mouth in horror; Papa’s jaw had now dropped, too.

Trinny had quickly hastened on to conclude her explanation. “You know I’m very fond of fashioning hats for my own amusement. Don’t worry, no one need find out that I’m selling them. Well, unless they become all the rage, then we can tell!”

Of course, not everyone appreciated her style of millinery.

“The important thing is, my dear esteemed parents, I wish to be an independent lady, free of husbands. I do not fear this fate. I do not scorn it. I embrace it happily.”

Just like Sweet Cheeks had said.

“Others may look askance on me in Society, but I care not. I would rather live alone than be locked in a cage with someone I don’t love. And you see, this will benefit the both of you,” she hastened to point out. “Because this way, I’ll be here to take care of you when you’re old.”

“Oh, Trinny,” Mama had uttered in shock at last, her face resembling the theatre mask of tragedy. “I’m a failure as a mother.”

“No, you should be happy for me, Mama!” Trinny had scolded with a cheerful smile. “
I’m
happy! This is so much better for me, please. I am tired of being told in so many words by all these stupid men that I’m not worth choosing. That I am not worth loving. I know this to be false. So I’m choosing myself! And so…”

With a humorous air of great ceremony, she had donned the cute spinster’s cap and lifted her chin proudly.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

Then Mama fainted.

Not that it was terribly unusual for her to do so. Sometimes the Glendon girls even suspected that she faked it for effect.

As for Papa, while Trinny waited with a heart-pounding gulp, to see if she had her sire’s permission, a broad, proud smile had slowly spread across the earl’s face.

He had a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, as though he knew something she had not yet grasped. The earl had glanced at his countess, and seeing she had swooned back safely onto the couch, he had stood up, walked over and taken Trinny’s face between his hands, placing a gentle kiss upon her forehead.

“You are a wonderful young woman,” he had murmured. “Those of us with eyes can see that in an instant. You have my blessing, but only because I cannot bear to see you wounded anymore. I love you.”

“So…you won’t make me marry Tuttle the Tortoise?”

“Of course not,” he had whispered. “He’s not worthy of you.” Then he had hugged her, and Trinny nearly wept at his tender words of support. Things might have been different, she had mused, if she could have found a man out there as kind as her papa.

Alas, her dam was considerably less understanding about matters. Once they had revived her, Trinny sat beside her mother, holding both her hands and reminding her how exciting it was going to be, now that she could start planning Abby’s wedding.

That had abruptly stopped her tears. It was no secret in their house, after all, that Abby had always been Mama’s favorite. When Trinny’s news was shared with her sisters, there had been nearly as much weeping with joy as there had been angry tears of a few nights ago.

In any case, a stately voice ahead suddenly yanked her out of her thoughts.

“Lady Katrina! A word with you, please,” said Her Ladyship, still hobbling down the steps. “Where is the gel? Daydreaming?”

“Oh, she’s right here, Aunt.” Felicity sent Trinny a
snap to it
glance at the summons from Lady Kirby.

“Coming!” Trinny lifted the hem of her skirts a little to hasten down a few more steps so she might appear before the grand dame.

Her Ladyship was proceeding slowly and methodically, her cane thumping on the stairs with each step. Holding on to the banister with one hand and her cane with the other, while Mrs. Brown walked slowly beside her and Felicity trailed behind, the old woman descended at a snail’s pace. But although the dowager was frail of body, she had great force of mind.

“Yes, ma’am? You wished to speak to me?” Trinny inquired.

“I have a few thoughts pertaining to your situation,” the old dragon informed her.

Felicity sent Trinny a discreet, mirthful smile from behind Her Ladyship.

“Slaves of convention will no doubt say you have thrown away your life, but I see matters differently. As I do with most things,” Lady Kirby added with a sharp stare.

Trinny’s mouth quirked; she was heartened to know she was not the only eccentric here tonight. The slight arch of Her Ladyship’s silvery eyebrow communicated her awareness that the two of them were not so different.

“It is an interesting choice you have made, gel. You must come to call on me soon. I have some ideas regarding how you might take best advantage of your newfound freedom. For you see, I was in a situation somewhat resembling your own for many years, indeed, most of my life.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. I had a husband once, very long ago. I barely remember what he looked like, but I loved him dearly at the time, and then he died.” She sighed but shrugged off her ancient loss as she continued clumping slowly down the stairs. “We scarcely had a decade together.”

“I’m very sorry,” Trinny offered.

“That’s not the point. Though Kirby is long gone, he left me all his money. He was a nabob, you know,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes. “He died before we ever had children. Everyone around me pitied me so much for that—well, except for some nephew of my husband’s, who inherited his title as a result. But I have had a very interesting life even so, and I would encourage you to seek the same, however possible. I try to tell my niece this, as well, but alas, she’s terribly conventional.”

“Ma’am!” Felicity said indignantly.

“You know it’s quite true, Felicity. Now then, Lady Katrina, when you come to my house, I shall give you a list of suggestions I think you’ll find agreeable. With that horrid war finally over, the Continent is open to travelers, and
I
say, get you to France.” She winked at her. “Italy, Spain, Greece, Portugal…”

“Er, that sounds very exciting, my lady. Of course, I can’t really do any traveling until my sister’s wedding passes.”

“Mmm.” Lady Kirby conceded this with a regretful nod. “How I wish I could go there again…”

All of a sudden, the double front doors to the marble entrance hall below burst open, and a crowd of rakehells poured in from the windy night outside.

They traveled in a pack, like wolves. They were rowdy and loud, fashionable and merry, windblown and more than a little tipsy, one more handsome than the next.

From the corner of her eye, Trinny saw Felicity flinch when the ringleader of their set swaggered in: the tall, handsome Duke of Netherford. Trinny’s own breath caught when she spotted Lord Roland among the pack of pretty fellows.

Promptly, her heart began to race. It was a foolish reaction, no doubt, but it couldn’t be helped. When a young lady shared a kiss in the moonlight with a dashing stranger—her first kiss, at that—it must understandably have at least
some
lingering effect.

Hiding her reaction as best she could, she ran her hand along the smooth hardwood of the banister, grateful for how it steadied her, as the sight of him made her slightly dizzy. She bit her lip at his striking good looks, the white flash of his teeth as he laughed at something one of his friends said. His tall, elegantly muscled form was lean and hard, as she well remembered when she’d been crushed against him, and she could see that his smooth, shiny hair was not just dark but a dramatic ebony.

She still had no idea what color his eyes were, though…

Quickly stopping herself from staring, she looked away and wondered where the gentlemen had been. Their set always came late. But on second thought, maybe she didn’t want to know. It was probably someplace disreputable.

A few of the young men spotted Lady Kirby coming down the steps, but Naughty Netherford’s gaze traveled past the old woman and clamped on to Felicity. Trinny saw him give a slight jolt and freeze briefly as he caught sight of the blonde.
Well, well.

Trinny knew the duke was a longtime friend of the Carvel family. Indeed, he was funding Major Carvel’s current expedition. So it didn’t make much sense to Trinny why Felicity always turned her
most
prim and proper whenever the so-called Duke of Scandal came into sight, considering she’d known him all her life.

For his part, seeing Felicity seemed to put a damper on Netherford’s rakish swagger. He offered the blonde a respectful nod from across the room, and then glanced at Lady Kirby and seemed to note her difficulty in coming down the stairs.

Turning away, the notoriously wicked duke clapped one of his friends on the shoulder, murmured something, pointed to another one of the men, and nodded toward the staircase.

Trinny did not know the two young rakehells who came bounding up the steps, but Lady Kirby burst out laughing and scolded the lads simultaneously as they surrounded her, declaring themselves on a mission.

“We shall carry you, my lady!”

“It would be our honor!”

Trinny got out of the way, but Felicity practically yelped as the two young lords clasped arms, bent down, and fashioned a queen’s seat for the dowager to sit on.

“Oh my God!” Felicity uttered, thunderstruck, as they proceeded to carry the old girl away. “They’re drunk! They’ll drop her!”