Page 57 of Ambition (The Chaplain’s Legacy #6)
LONDON: THE FOLLOWING JUNE
T here were few houses in London large enough to boast a ballroom, but the residence of the Earl of Kiltarlity was one of them.
By some quirk of land division, the house had an unusually large garden, and an ambitious ancestor had contrived to squeeze in a proper ballroom, not the usual two or three rooms with doors thrown wide that most were able to manage.
It was not the largest ballroom in town but it was more than adequate for the purpose.
Robert had promised his sisters two balls during the season, and the first, a modest affair, had passed off tolerably well in the early days of the season when there were few competing events.
Now it was time for a greater challenge — a grand ball in the height of the season, when every night was filled with other enticing occasions.
His mother had planned the occasion with military precision, and Lizzie and Lucy had joined in with enthusiasm.
There was nothing for Robert to do but play the part of genial host on the night.
He felt the usual frisson of excitement before a ball.
Not for the occasion itself, for he had been a part of London society for more than ten years now and the novelty of an endless procession of shiny-eyed debutantes fresh from the country had long since worn off.
Since his older brothers had died and left him the heir to the earldom, he had lost much of his interest in the usual entertainments of the season.
As often as not, he had arrived late to an event, lounged at the side of the room for a while and then, bored, retreated to the card room.
But now… oh, now there was Olivia! Whatever event she attended, there he would be, too, catching her eye across a packed room at a rout, waving to her at the theatre, fetching her an endless supply of cake at a Venetian breakfast or riding beside her carriage on outings.
And at a ball, he had the joy of dancing with her, sharing secret smiles and delighting in the touch of her hand when the movement brought them together.
And she kept her word to save the supper dance for him, so he was then able to take her in to supper.
Half an hour or sometimes a whole hour sitting beside her, drinking in her lovely face and making her laugh with his teasing, watching her blush when he hinted, very subtly, at his affection for her.
Affection! Such an inadequate word. Fondness… no, that was worse. Love. Devotion. Adoration. Idolisation. That was closer. Every moment spent with her was precious to him.
Yet he had found it almost impossible to spend an entire ball with her.
It was difficult enough waiting impatiently for his own share of her attention, but watching her dance with other partners was a peculiar form of torture that twisted his insides with painful intensity.
He agonised over every expression on her lovely face.
Was she smiling more than usual at that one, or laughing at a jest by another one?
Was she more enthusiastic with another partner than she was with him?
It almost drove him mad. He had taken to arriving later and later, arriving just in time for his own dance with her, staying only for supper and then leaving as soon as he decently could. It was less heart-rending that way.
But tonight he was the host, so he would be there from the first arrival until the last merry reveller staggered away home, and he was not sure he could bear it.
The Athertons were early arrivals, having dined together and then proceeded to the ball in several carriages. The butler, relishing his r?le, made the announcement in stentorian tones.
“Lord and Lady Rennington, Lord and Lady Farramont, Lord and Lady Woodridge, Mr and Mrs Bertram Atherton, Mr Lucas Atherton, Mr and Mrs Walter Atherton, Miss Olivia Atherton.”
Robert supposed he said the proper words to each of them, but he only had eyes for Olivia. She looked enchanting tonight in a cream coloured gown that sparkled in the candlelight, and tiny white flowers threaded through her hair.
“I am last, of course,” she said, her eyes laughing up at him.
He lifted her gloved hand to his lips. “You are first and last, Lady Olivia.”
“Oh!” she breathed. “You do pay me the prettiest compliments, Lord Kiltarlity.”
And she smiled at him so charmingly that any witty or clever response flew straight out of his head, and he could only mumble, “Supper dance?”
“As always.”
She was forced to move on by the press of arrivals awaiting their turn to greet the host, but his eyes followed her until she was absorbed into the crowd and lost to view.
It was some time before the musicians began to tune their instruments and Lady Kiltarlity allowed Robert and his sisters to escape from the receiving line and open the dancing.
Robert had already been told he was to partner one of the Medhurst girls, who was widely acclaimed as the season’s Incomparable.
There were many who held that Olivia should hold that title, but the Lady Angelica Medhurst was the legitimate daughter of a duke, and Olivia was only the illegitimate daughter of an earl, and to many in society, that made all the difference.
Olivia’s loveliness, her sweet nature, her graceful deportment and her charm meant nothing.
Even her thirty thousand pounds melted no hearts amongst the highest sticklers.
Amongst the gentlemen, however, she was the absolute favourite. They swarmed around her so closely tonight that her diminutive form was scarcely visible in the crush. In the end it was Lord Thomas Medhurst who triumphantly led her onto the dance floor for the first dance.
Robert was not sure he was the best company for Lady Angelica that night. He did his best but he kept being distracted by glimpses of Olivia, eyes shining, the curls framing her face flying out and her gown shimmering in the candlelight.
Eventually the interminable dance was over, and as Robert was escorting Lady Angelica back to her mother, he saw Bertram and Bea sitting together at the side of the room, with Lucas lounging against a pillar.
Bea waved cheerfully to him, and called out, “You are a clumsy oaf, Lord Kiltarlity. You nearly trod on your partner’s gown.”
Lady Angelica laughed. “A friend of yours, I take it? She looks lively. Do introduce me.”
“Of course. Lady Angelica, may I present Mrs Bertram Atherton and her husband, whose father is brother to the Earl of Rennington. That fellow by the pillar is their brother, Mr Lucas Atherton. And this is the Lady Angelica Medhurst, sister of the Duke of Wedhampton.”
“Delighted to meet you, Lady Angelica,” Lucas said, stepping forward eagerly to execute a deep bow. “Would it be presumptuous of me to hope to engage your hand for the next dance? I promise not to step on your gown.”
With a smile, she said, “Unfortunately, I am engaged for the next two… here he comes now to claim me.”
She had turned away almost before she had finished speaking, disappearing into the throng on the arm of her next partner.
“Ah, well,” Lucas sighed. “It was a little ambitious. The daughter of a duke will not look at an untitled man. A parson’s daughter is more my level, I imagine.”
“Nonsense, Lucas,” Bea said robustly. “You are a gentleman of means now, you know. Why should you not look as high as you please?”
“Because a modest house and an income of fourteen hundred a year is not enough to keep a duke’s daughter contented, that is why.”
“Combined with the duke’s daughter’s dowry of fifty thousand, she could be kept very contented, I imagine,” Robert said.
“Fifty thousand? Is that her portion?” Lucas’s eyes were wide.
“So it is said in the clubs. That was what her father promised her, and the new Wedhampton has agreed to honour that. She is a lovely lady.”
“She is!” Lucas cried. “But then… I am discovering that London is full of lovely ladies.”
“You are seriously looking for a wife, then?”
“Oh, yes! Now that I have my house, I want to put a wife in it as soon as possible.”
“How are you liking it at Welwood? That was a most unexpected bequest, I understand.”
Lucas laughed. “Indeed, and I was the last option. Eustace left his estate to his eldest son, if he had one, or failing that, his eldest daughter, or failing that his wife. And failing that… me. Because I am a second son, seemingly, and Eustace had a sympathy for those in that position. However it came about, I am deeply grateful, although I have not been there very much, only to clear out Eustace’s things.
So many weapons! I got Captain Edgerton to come and take them all away.
He is very happy to take care of them, and gave me a good price for them. ”
“And the smuggling? Is that still going on?”
“Heavens, Kiltarlity, for an outsider you know a great deal about our family business!”
“Olivia is a chatterbox,” Robert said, with a smile.
“So she is. No secrets from you, then. I have told all the Welwood people that I want nothing to do with anything illegal, and if it goes on, I have no wish to know about it. Mind you, the brandy in the cellar at Welwood is of exceptional quality.”
Robert chuckled. “I am sure it is.”
He encountered Lord Embleton and his new bride, the former Miss Ruth Plowman, a most improbable match but one that, judging from the smiles of contentment on their faces, seemed likely to be a happy one. If only he could be so sure of his own future happiness!
Robert felt obliged to stand up for the next pair of dances, but this time he found Olivia and her partner were the next in the line, so he was dancing with her almost as often as with his own partner.
It made him the stupidest dancer in the set, with no conversation and little attention to his steps, so that he had to apologise abjectly to his partner afterwards.