Page 6 of Falling for the Earl (Improper Ladies #2)

M r. Rattray joined Aunt Mary and Lucy at every function they attended. He dined with them at a Mayfair hotel and escorted them to the Theatre Royal to see the famous actor Edmund Kean play Shylock. Lucy was enthralled by the actor’s expressive eyes and convincing performance. While Mr. Rattray seldom addressed Lucy, except for polite inquiries as to her health and whether she enjoyed the play, she often sensed his gaze measuring her. Was he interested in marrying Aunt Mary and feared Lucy would cause him trouble? But why should she? She would take pleasure in seeing her aunt happy again. Aunt Mary disliked widowhood and welcomed a man’s attention. Lucy wished she could approve of Mr. Rattray. Yet the more she saw of him, the less she trusted him, although she admitted to having no reason for the feeling. He had done nothing to deserve her suspicion. However, the impression grew stronger each time she was in his company. To suggest that to her aunt without proof would only upset Aunt Mary and make her rightfully angry, so Lucy kept silent.

The following week, they attended another ball. When she entered the dance floor on Mr. Nash’s arm, Lord Dorchester and a pretty, young woman with light-brown ringlets joined their set. She was not the same lady Lucy had seen with him at the garden party and on the carriage ride. Lucy tried to give her attention to the steps of the quadrille, but inevitably, when the earl took his place beside Lucy and her dance partner, she forgot everything but him.

“Miss Kershaw. Mr. Nash.” Lord Dorchester introduced his partner, a Miss Ely, who smiled engagingly.

“Miss Ely. My lord.” When Mr. Nash rose from his bow, flustered, he stumbled over his feet as he proceeded down the line.

“Enjoying the ball, Miss Kershaw?” Lord Dorchester asked, when next they came together.

“Yes, very much, my lord.”

“I was right,” Mr. Nash whispered when he returned to her side. “Dorchester has taken note of me. Wouldn’t you say so?”

“Of course,” Lucy said promptly.

The dance ended, and she and Mr. Nash joined the orderly line to leave the dance floor. After Nash had left her, Lord Dorchester and another young lady with darker hair came over to Lucy.

“Miss Kershaw. Might I have a moment? Sarah, this is Miss Lucy Kershaw. Miss Kershaw, this is my sister, Lady Sarah Fairburn. She has expressed a desire to meet you.” Lord Dorchester turned toward the young woman beside him. “As debutantes, perhaps you’ll find much in common.”

Lucy bobbed, very surprised that an earl’s daughter, who smiled graciously, wanted to meet her.

“Would you care to sit with me until the next dance is called, Miss Kershaw?”

“I would, thank you, Lady Sarah.”

Lord Dorchester bowed and left them. After telling her aunt, who looked pleased, Lucy joined Lady Sarah, and they sat together watching the noisy, chatting crowd traversing the rim of the ballroom floor.

“Mama is talking to friends.” Lady Sarah raised her voice above the din and gestured with her fan toward the far row of seats where several ladies sat chatting together. The dowager countess was recognizable by her blue eyes and dark-brown hair the same color as her son’s and daughter’s. She was deathly pale. Had she suffered from an illness? “She rarely comes to London and is catching up on news.”

Lady Sarah’s natural manner soon put Lucy at ease. She was slender to the point of thinness, her sharp collarbones revealed by the neckline of her gown with a thin, rather delicate face. Her best features were her abundant dark-brown hair and stunning light-blue eyes, much like her brother’s. “Tell me about yourself, Miss Kershaw. Where do you hail from?”

“Bath, my lady.”

“Ah, yes, Bath. My mother and I have just returned from there. We enjoyed the entertainments in the town. How blessed you are to have grown up in such a vibrant city.”

“It is a busy, interesting place,” Lucy agreed, although she hadn’t been able to enjoy many of the functions. But she and her good friend, Alice Graham, rode together and shopped on the Pulteney Bridge. They enjoyed tea and buns at Sally Lunn’s shop, but not since Alice had married and given birth to a daughter.

“The Kentish countryside where I grew up is pretty, but a trifle dull. Apart from the dances at the assembly hall and dining with the neighbors, there’s little to do. But I love to ride.” Lady Sarah laughed. “Mama had a terrible time making me abandon my horse, Beauty, to attend my lessons.”

“I love horses.” Lucy had ridden in Bath but had never owned a horse, although she’d often yearned for one.

“We might ride together in Rotten Row. My brother doesn’t keep a suitable horse in London, so I shall hire one.”

“I must do the same.” Lucy wondered what Aunt Mary would think of that.

“Then let’s meet at the Hyde Park stables. Is Sunday morning, after church, suitable?”

“I must ask my aunt. But if she gives her permission, it would be most agreeable.”

As they talked, the gulf between their rank in life seemed to matter a little less. Lucy relaxed until Lady Sarah mentioned her brother. “Did you meet in Bath?” Curiosity widened her lovely, light-blue eyes.

“Merely a few words in passing,” Lucy said carefully. “And we danced once at a ball here in London.”

“You danced with Hugh?” Lady Sarah’s gaze became speculative. “Fancy. My brother said he wasn’t fond of dancing, but he seems to have changed his mind. But this is my first time here, so I daresay I shall discover more about him.” She sighed. “Brothers seem to keep their thoughts and feelings close to their chest. I’ve always wanted a sister to talk to. Do you have a brother or sister?”

“No.”

“How sad for you.”

Lucy nodded, not sure how to reply. Perhaps if she had a brother, or sister, she might not have worried so much about Papa.

Their partners made their way through the crowded ballroom to them when the last dance was announced.

Lucy stood, disappointed that their conversation had been cut short.

“I shall look for you at Hyde Park on Sunday,” Lady Sarah said. “Shall we say, eleven o’clock, before the rush?”

“Yes. I hope to be there.”

“You must come to tea afterward. I’m sure Mama would like to meet you.”

They parted company as Lucy puzzled over her invitation. Surely, the dowager countess wouldn’t have been interested in meeting her? Probably Lady Sarah was merely being polite. But Lucy liked her natural, friendly manner, which was a contrast to that of many of the standoffish debutantes. She hoped Aunt Mary would approve of her riding without an escort. She didn’t want to take her aunt’s grumpy groom with her. Surely, Lady Sarah’s groom would suffice for both of them. Fortunately, the seamstress had altered her cousin Anabel’s discarded blue riding habit, which included a smart, military-styled jacket piped with gold braid. It was flattering, and this was Lucy’s chance to wear it.

She hoped to hear more about Lord Dorchester, whose Christian name was Hugh, she’d learned, from Lady Sarah. What had he been like as a boy? Had he gotten into scrapes? Had he always been so even-tempered? He exuded confidence and would probably act quickly and forcefully if someone dared slight him. She thirsted for all those details about him. Anyone would be curious about such a man, she reasoned, as she and Mr. Greenvale joined the dancers on the floor. She gazed over the crowded ballroom for a sign of him.

“You are contemplative tonight, Miss Kershaw,” Mr. Greenvale said, his smile wooden.

Lucy gathered her wits. She was being rude, so she smiled broadly, causing him to stroke a hand over his hair. “A little weary, sir, but never too tired to dance.”

As the dance came to a close, Lucy couldn’t resist one last lingering look at the earl. When she spied him laughing at something some gentleman had said, her heart beat faster, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the energetic dance, or the earl.

*

On Sunday, after they’d returned from church, Aunt Mary ferreted out a dashing black riding hat with a feather for Lucy to wear. “Do you know how to choose a suitable hack?” she asked, suddenly concerned. “I shall have my groom advise you.”

“I’m sure Lady Sarah’s groom will accompany her,” Lucy said. “He can help me.”

“Mm. I suppose that is in order. Spencer will drive you to the park and make sure her ladyship’s groom is there before he leaves you. My, that hat does suit you.” She gave the brim a tug. “Come to the mirror and look for yourself.”

After looking at the mirror, Lucy agreed. The graceful hat was very stylish. Excitement tightened her chest. Would this be the first occasion where she could enjoy herself and not have to worry about the possible consequences of her lie?

*

Sarah paused in buttering her toast to level a glance at Hugh seated across the breakfast table from her. “I heard you danced with Miss Kershaw a week or two ago.”

“It’s my duty to dance with a debutante. I believe you asked me to invite your friend Miss Ely to dance the quadrille.”

“But I didn’t ask you to dance with Miss Kershaw, did I?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Who is also a debutante. So?”

“So…” She grinned. “You selected the prettiest one at the ball.”

“Was she? I recognized her from Bath. That’s why I chose her.”

“Ha!”

He rubbed his neck. “Tell me, did you enjoy your first ball?”

“It was as I expected,” Sarah said. “Noisy, smoky, and everyone watching everyone else and talking behind their backs.”

“That’s a cynical view to have. What is the reason?”

She shrugged her thin shoulders.

He glanced at her breakfast, which consisted of one slice of toast. Sarah had lost weight. Dash it all, he’d swear Lord Cardew was the reason. “Did you have a partner for every dance?”

“I am an earl’s daughter. Of course men pursue me.”

“You aren’t fair to yourself. You’re a pretty girl.”

“Oh, Hugh. I am not.”

“You are too thin. You eat little more than a bird,” he said, giving in to the desire to advise her, although he feared it would not be welcome.

She nodded, studied her toast, and said nothing.

“Will you try to improve your diet while here in London?”

She shrugged. “If you wish.”

“Good. No time like the present.” He turned to the footman standing beside the sideboard laden with hot food in chaffing dishes. “Benjamin, serve Lady Sarah with some eggs and bacon. Kedgeree too. And more toast.”

Her eyes widened. “I can’t eat all that, Hugh.”

“Do your best. My chef will make anything you fancy.” He smiled, pleased to have at least her vague promise.

Sarah stared at the loaded plate Benjamin put before her. At Hugh’s urging to eat before it grew cold, she forked up some egg. “Miss Kershaw is nice. I like her. We are to ride together on Sunday in Hyde Park if her aunt agrees.”

“You’ll require an escort. I’ll join you.”

She grinned. “I thought you would.”

He laughed. “Minx. Are you trying to interfere in my affairs?”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

She was the picture of innocence. Tit for tat. Time to take a more active part in Sarah’s affairs. He would invite Luke Beaufort to join them on Sunday. An earl’s second son, he was a good-looking fellow, here in London to find a wife. And more importantly, Hugh liked him a great deal. Luke could more than hold a candle to Sarah’s beau, Lord Cardew. He’d eclipse him.

Hugh pushed a dish of jam toward Sarah, who had put down her knife and fork. “More tea for Lady Sarah and coffee for me, Benjamin.”

During the week, he was pleased to observe Sarah eating more at meals, although he was careful not to mention it. She still appeared too nervous for his liking. Was it Cardew, or their mother’s health, or both?

On Sunday, Hugh and Sarah traveled to the stables in Hyde Park to choose mounts. In the curricle, he paved the way, stirring her gentle heart by relating Luke’s tragic story: the fire which had destroyed his house and claimed his pregnant wife. “Luke has restored the building. He has plans to marry,” he said.

Sarah sighed. “That is so sad.”

“It is. But he hasn’t let it sink him into the depths, and he has hopes for the future.” Hugh eyed her and continued, thinking Sarah had taken the lure like the salmon in the river at home.

“I know what you’re about, Hugh.” Sarah briskly smoothed her doeskin gloves. “But I doubt I could consider anyone else in my life. It’s always been Robert.”

“Keep an open mind, Sarah. I think you’ll like him,” Hugh said, refusing to be discouraged as the coach pulled up at the stables and the groom put down the steps.

Miss Kershaw soon joined them, looking wonderful in dark blue and a dashing riding hat.

“Lord Dorchester, I didn’t expect you to accompany us.”

“I hope it pleases you to have my company, Miss Kershaw.”

She blushed. “But of course. I must tell the driver that all is well.” She turned and hurried back to the waiting carriage.

As the ladies chatted, Hugh roamed the stables, smelling of saddle oil, hay, and manure. He disliked hiring horses, which were often a disappointing ride, and some were bad-tempered, but he hadn’t brought Chance to the city this Season. He chose two mares, a roan and a gray for the ladies, and was inspecting the fetlock of a chestnut gelding for himself when Luke arrived. Tall and broad across the shoulders, he looked well in riding garb.

Hugh went to introduce Luke to the ladies. “I don’t believe you’ve met my sister, Lady Sarah,” he said. He was gratified to note Sarah’s slight flush as she greeted the handsome fellow.

Encouraged that his idea might bear fruit, Hugh decided to let nature take its course. He turned his attention to Miss Kershaw.

Hugh approached the young lady, who stood beside the gray horse. “May I help you mount, Miss Kershaw?” Breathing in her fragrance, redolent of lilies, his hands at her waist sent a shock of awareness through him. It felt amazing just to touch her through her habit, and the sensation brought all sorts of ribald thoughts to his mind.

“Thank you, Lord Dorchester.”

He thought she looked a little flustered as he turned to mount his horse. Did she sense the strong attraction between them? He had never felt this way with a lady fully-clothed. Had never felt this way at all, he realized.

Luke cupped his hands to boost Sarah into the saddle, then he mounted his own horse. Hugh noticed how Sarah watched Luke approvingly. Now, if only Luke might show some interest in Sarah, but there was no sign of that beyond a friendly politeness.

Early days , Hugh told himself. Astride a horse, Luke was an impressive figure. The perfect man to banish Cardew from her mind.

They left the stables and their horses trotted across the grass.

At this time of day, Rotten Row was quiet, as most riders either came earlier, or later in the early evening. Few carriages drove along the South Carriage Drive, except for a high-perched phaeton driven by a dashing young blade. Hugh recognized him. Nash. He raised his crop to salute him, but the young man’s eyes were on Miss Kershaw, deep in conversation as she rode beside Sarah.

Hugh tightened his jaw. Surely it was concern, not jealousy he felt. Although her response to Nash was not his affair, the man was not the right sort for Miss Kershaw. But that was not something he was able to tell her.

Riding beside Luke, Hugh glanced behind him. Miss Kershaw responded to Nash’s greeting with a casual wave, before turning back to Sarah again. At any rate, she didn’t appear to be in love with the fellow. His deep sense of relief and the extraordinary feeling she caused in him left him baffled. The only answer was that he felt protective of her. It was not only remarkable, but uncharacteristic of him. And he was pretty sure he was fooling himself. Let it alone , he thought. He wasn’t free.

But he couldn’t help riding over to join her, which served the dual purpose to having Luke join Sarah.

When Miss Kershaw turned to him, he was surprised to see worry darken her eyes.

“I hope you approve of me befriending Lady Sarah, Lord Dorchester.”

“Why would I not?” he asked, startled.

She shrugged and tightened her hands on the reins, causing the horse to sidle. “Because of the gossip about me.”

“Is there gossip about you?”

She frowned at him. “You must know I refer to my lie about my father.”

“I had forgotten it,” he said. “I can see it is not your habit to tell lies.”

She gazed at him for a moment, her big, brown eyes regarding him. “You are too good.” Then she urged her horse into a canter to catch up with Luke and Sarah.

Too good? It was not how he thought of himself when his hands clasped her slim waist, and a rush of very different thoughts filled his mind and stirred his blood.