Page 12

Chapter

Twelve

The Season, London

A ngelica stood in the glittering ballroom of Lord and Lady Cecil, marveling at the beauty, the dresses and jewels of those in attendance. People danced and laughed, courted and whispered in secret of the latest on dit or flirtations to those they courted.

The sight was one to behold and even in her most imaginative days on thinking what her time in the Season would be like, she could not have invented anything more beautiful.

She glanced down at her gown of white silk with gold embroidery on the bodice and hem, checking that all was as it should be and nothing out of place.

Her sister linked their arms and pulled her along to take a turn about the room, guiding her past those her sister knew and making the appropriate introductions when needed.

"Ah, Angelica, may I present to you Lady Mary. She's the youngest daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Fox." Her sister smiled between the two of them, before Angelica dipped into a small curtsy.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Mary."

"And you also," the young woman said, moving closer to her to ensure privacy from those who stood nearby.

"I was hoping Lady St. George would introduce us.

She said that her sister was to have a Season this year, and I've been positively excited to have another friend.

I believe we're the same age, you see, this is my third Season in town. "

"Really?" Angelica said, a little shocked to hear the young woman, a duke's daughter no less, had not married during her first year. Her surprise must have registered on her face for Lady Mary chuckled and shrugged.

"I'm very particular, you see, and no one has sparked an ounce in interest in my heart just yet, but I'm hopeful for this Season."

Angelica liked the young woman immediately and her candor to speak what she thought, very much like herself.

Not to mention being the same age, her nervousness of being excluded was halved if she would have Lady Mary at the ton nish events this year.

"Do you think there is anyone interesting here?

You must tell me all of those of the opposite sex I should avoid and those who show promise. "

"Well, Lord Whitmore is definitely one to keep clear of. I heard his first night in London last week was overshadowed by where he was dragged from by his brother in the wee hours of the morning. Apparently it was not a gentleman's club, and most definitely not in Mayfair."

"Is Lord Whitmore here?" Angelica asked, scanning the room with more interest than she should. For two weeks she’d not seen Lord Benedict, not that Lord Whitmore being here meant his brother was also, but at least she knew now for certain they were in town.

She spied his lordship talking with Lord St. George, whom he'd met in Hampshire briefly before they departed for London. Her heart gave a skip, her eyes scanning those who stood nearby Lord Whitmore, but alas, she could not see Lord Benedict.

"Well, maybe Lord Whitmore is suitable after all," Lady Mary said with a small, knowing chuckle.

Angelica turned back to her new friend and shook her head. "Oh no, you're quite mistaken if I gather your meaning, but we met Lord Whitmore and his brother Lord Benedict recently. They were guests at my home in Hampshire."

"Oh dear, that was you? I had heard Lord Benedict was injured by a highwayman. I cannot believe it was your estate that he recuperated at."

"Yes, it was quite a surprise for him to arrive as he did, but we were so fortunate to save his life." She turned back to Lord Whitmore and still found him engrossed in conversation with her brother-in-law.

"Did I not hear Lord Benedict is looking to join the Catholic Church? What a difference of character the brothers seem to have. One is purely sin, and the other salvation.” Mary paused. “Not that we’re Catholic, you understand, not many of the ton are."

Angelica nodded, although she could not entirely agree with Lady Mary’s opinion on the Deverell family.

While yes, Lord Whitmore was terribly naughty, Lord Benedict wasn’t too dissimilar to his older sibling.

She was certain he had thought to kiss her twice in Hampshire.

So many days ago now, that she often struggled to remember exactly the interaction, no matter how much she tried to close her eyes and relive the pleasure.

"Lord Whitmore is a nice man, however, even if he is a little naughty, but Lord Benedict is as you say, a very kind soul."

"And devastatingly handsome when attired for a ball." Lady Mary nodded to where Lord Whitmore and St. George were standing and the breath in Angelica's lungs seized.

The sight of Lord Benedict, standing tall and elegant beside his brother, his black-silk knee-high breeches and boots, along with his shirt and waistcoat and black jacket made him appear far more elegant and untouchable than he ever had been before.

She could barely reconcile the man who had almost died under their care in Hampshire to the virile, tall, muscular gentleman who stood beside his brother, engaged in conversation and sipping a whisky.

"He looks so well. It is good to see that he's finally on the mend and past any danger from his brush with a highwayman," she agreed, unsure yet if she could be so honest with her new friend and tell her that in truth she was well on the way to being utterly infatuated with the man.

However would she survive if he were to join the church and marry God and not her? She'd never thought to ever be jealous of anyone, nevertheless God, but here she was.

"I would say he's doing very well indeed." Her friend sighed. "If only all the eligible men in London looked half as good as the Deverell brothers. A shame both are out of the question."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Angelica couldn't help but continue to ogle his lordship, but then, really she should stop lest he catch her staring. She didn't want to look as desperate as she felt.

"Lady Mary, Lady Angelica, a pleasure." Lord Jermyn bowed before them, having been introduced earlier in the night by her sister. "Lady Angelica, would you do me the honor of the next dance?"

"Of course," she said, giving his lordship her hand and rallying herself to do as she must, push on through the Season and find a kind husband whom she could fall in love with and marry.

There was nothing to say that Lord Jermyn could not fill those requirements. And from what her sister Lady St. George had said, he was an upstanding man in the ton , had no scandals following him about, and was wealthy enough to support her in their future.

Still, as she slipped into his arms and he smiled down at her, commencing a conversation regarding his troubles in finding adequate riding boots, she soon came to realize he would not do at all. There was no spark, no stomach-churning nerves or delectable flutters in her stomach.

Nothing whatsoever.

"How delightful that you're here, Lady Angelica. Lord and Lady St. George have spoken highly of you and tell me you enjoy riding horses. Are there any other pursuits you like that you're competent at?"

She pulled herself away from thinking about a certain future priest and turned her attention to Lord Jermyn instead.

"I'm afraid I'm terrible at playing the piano forte and I do not embroider at all.

But I do hope that I shall be able to get a kitten soon.

We were not allowed pets growing up, and I would so love a cat. "

"A cat?" Lord Jermyn’s mouth turned down into a disgusted snarl. "What would you want one of those rodent-catching animals for? They belong in barns and nowhere else, mind. I would never allow such a pest in the house. A dog, however, would be suitable."

Angelica fought not to let her hackles rise, but knew within herself she was failing miserably.

"But do you not think dogs have an odor that is quite unbecoming?

I know that whenever I've picked up a cat I do not have the stench of their fur on me afterward. But with a dog that is not the case.” She threw him a smile to soften her words that may have come out a little harsher than they needed, but who was he to say what was allowed or best. She was not married to him and nor would she be.

“My mind will not be altered on this topic, my lord.”

"A shame your opinion is so wrong, my lady. Maybe in time I shall be able to change your mind about such things."

She continued smiling, but her mind raced to tell him he could go shove his opinions where they belonged, down his wrong throat. "No, I long for a cat, not a dog. I fear we shall disagree on this matter and best we change the subject before we're at odds."

Lord Jermyn chuckled, but the gesture was laced with sarcasm. "But you are mistaken, my lady. I cannot allow you to continue believing such false pretences."

Angelica stared at him, wishing she had not agreed to the dance at all and willing it would end. Now preferably.