Page 20 of Marrying a Marquess (Widows of Mayfair #3)

His mind worked fast as he read over the papers.

He understood all the logistics regarding the players, the scams, and the blackmail.

David laughed when he saw the date and the amount swindled from Hollingsworth.

So he wasn’t as bright as he thought he was.

And now David understood the rumors surrounding Hollingsworth.

The list of gentlemen who had fallen prey was staggering.

Not just members of the aristocracy. Members of the gentry as well as members of the clergy.

David had fallen into a windfall of knowledge and the potential to make thousands of pounds monthly.

Old man Norton had been brilliant in creating such a lucrative business.

David would gladly take it over and reap the financial rewards.

*

The glimmering blue-and-silver ballgown Priscilla wore shimmered when she walked as the lights reflected off the silver sparkles adorning the tulle overlay on the skirt and in the thin pieces of silver tulle woven throughout her hair, which she wore half up with the rest of her auburn curls cascading down her back and across her shoulders.

A matching shawl, gloves, heeled shoes, fan, and reticle finished her elegant ensemble.

One last glance in the looking glass had her heart soaring with confidence.

If Nick and David didn’t lose the capacity to speak when she arrived in this gown, nothing could accomplish it.

It was the most daring ballgown she’d ever worn, and she was afraid if she took a deep breath, she might pop out the top.

Madam Serena assured her it would never happen, but still. She felt indecent.

Her mother looked her up and down with a frown but refrained from giving her opinion, which shocked Priscilla. Perhaps her mother hoped if she bared most of her breasts to Nick, he would go crazy with lust, lose himself, and take her in the Pleasure Gardens, sealing their future together.

Even if they did succumb to their lustful urges, she would never force Nick to marry her. She was a widow, not an innocent debutante.

“The carriage is here,” her mother said as Berkley opened the door to the cool evening air.

Priscilla pulled her wrap across her chest as the cool night air caressed her bare skin. Indeed, if she glanced down, she would see her nipples pebbled. Oh dear, that would be something she would have to keep in mind tonight. She did not want some lecherous older gentleman leering at her breasts.

The ride to Vauxhall Gardens on the south side of the River Thames took longer than usual because of traffic.

Anyone who had received an invitation from the duke and duchess would not dare decline—the Greenvilles were valuable acquaintances.

The duke was twenty years the duchess’s senior, but even at fifty-five and thirty-five, they made a strikingly handsome couple.

One would have to be blind not to see how the duke doted on his duchess, and with good reason.

Since joining the Ladies’ Society of Mayfair, Priscilla had a great respect and affection for her.

“Look at the queue of carriages,” her mother said, leaning forward, holding the curtain open on the window.

“Emmeline and Lilly said this would be the largest event of the Season.”

“Well, it is certainly the place to hold such an event. I imagine if the weather were foul, it would have been rescheduled. You can hardly have a ball outdoors in inclement weather.”

“No. I don’t suppose you can.” She exhaled as butterflies flew inside her stomach as their carriage pulled up in front of Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens.

The name in itself provoked naughty thoughts.

They disembarked the carriage with a footman’s help and followed the bevy of people lining the Grand Walk, waiting to greet their hosts.

Priscilla gasped when her eyes traveled down the line of trees glowing from hundreds of glass lanterns hanging from the branches.

They finally reached the front of the colonnade where the duke and duchess were greeting their guests.

The colonnade was a three-terraced building, the top of which resembled a crown.

On the first-floor terrace was the large orchestra.

Her insides hummed with the desire to dance the whole night away.

Priscilla approached their hosts and curtsied deeply. “Your Graces. It’s an honor to be here this evening.”

“Lady Priscilla, please rise,” the Duchess of Greenville said with a kind smile and touched her hands. “We are so glad you could come. Please enjoy yourself and partake in the entertainment.”

“Duke, Duchess.” Her mother curtsied.

“Duchess.” The Duke of Greenville took her mother’s hand and bowed over it. “We are pleased you could come and that you brought your lovely daughter with you.”

The Duchess of Greenville curtsied. “You honor us with your presence, Your Grace.”

“Thank you both for your kind words,” her mother said with a smile.

It wasn’t long before the Master of Ceremonies announced their names, and Priscilla sighed with relief.

She had been so frightened the Duchess of Greenville would say something about the Ladies’ Society of Mayfair.

Not that her parents didn’t know she belonged, but she feared the duchess would comment on her traveling into St. Giles that morning.

Her mother would have needed her smelling salts.

Now that they were through the receiving line, Priscilla took in more of their surroundings, and she smiled wistfully at the magical appearance everywhere she looked.

A large wooden dance floor had been constructed in front of the colonnade.

Numerous tables and chairs were clustered around the dance floor.

The tables were decorated with beautiful hot-house flower arrangements.

Also, tables and chairs were tucked here and there into the gardens, lit up with more glass lanterns.

Flowers and shrubs of every conceivable color were blooming and disbursing their flowery scent into the air.

The grandeur and vision took her breath away.

“The duke and duchess outdid themselves this year,” her mother said.

“The white-and-gold tablecloths and accents complement the colorful gardens instead of trying to outshine the vibrant blooms. The choice of flowers on the tables works perfectly as well. They must have bought out every hot house in London. I’ve never seen such beauty.

” She paused and scanned the crowd. “I see Lady Hollingsworth seated with several other ladies. That is where I’ll be if you need me. ”

Before she could acknowledge her mother’s words, she vanished.

Her mother made the worst chaperone ever.

Good thing she didn’t need one. She looked around at all the tables and groups of people until she found her friends gathered around a table on the perimeter of the gardens.

Her insides relaxed a bit. Standing tall to give herself an air of confidence when she felt nothing remotely resembling confidence, she glided toward them.

Well, it was not precisely gliding, but it sounded better than walking.

She’d seen ladies glide across a crowded room, drawing all eyes toward them. She pretended to be that person.

Just as she approached, Emmeline and Lilly stepped forward, each taking one of her hands and leading her toward their table.

“Isn’t this place magical?” Emmeline said with a smile and a twinkle in her blue eyes.

Her deep sapphire-blue gown played off her eyes, making them seem ethereal in the twinkling lights.

“Your gown is stunning. Nick had to wipe the drool off his chin as you floated across to us.”

She fought not to giggle like a love-sick fool. “I highly doubt it. Both you and Lilly look beyond beautiful.” Lilly wore a deep ruby-red gown accentuated with transparent tulle and gold sparkles. Madam Serena had outdone herself with their three gowns.

That wasn’t to say the gentlemen didn’t look handsome in their evening attire.

All wore black cutaway coats with tails, black breeches with hose, and black shoes with either silver or gold buckles.

The three waistcoats varied, as did their shirts and cravats.

Nick wore a gray-and-white striped waistcoat and a white linen shirt and cravat.

She’d never seen him so handsome and formal.

“Lady Priscilla,” he said in a smooth, smoky voice that did indecent things to her woman parts as he bowed over her hand. His deep brown eyes seared into her soul. “You look enchanting. You are a princess in a garden full of fairies; their sole purpose is to grant your every wish and desire.”

He still held her hand when she curtsied. “Lord Hollingsworth. Are you spouting poetry these days?”

His deep, throaty chuckle warmed her heart. After their encounter in Hyde Park, she had been afraid he would treat her differently now that she knew about his personal affairs.

“Perhaps I should. It would give me something else to do with my time. Will you save me a waltz this evening? I don’t see a dance card attached to your wrist.”

She knew she didn’t have one, yet she looked at her wrist out of habit. “They did not supply them. Perhaps tonight one may dance with whom they wish as many times as they want.”

He chuckled again and winked at her. “Wouldn’t that be a pleasant change from Society’s strict rules?”

It was then that Priscilla noticed Baron Latham, Mr. Caldwell, and Lady Beatrice joining their little party.

Her eyes locked with David’s, and her cheeks flushed at the thought that he might have heard her and Nick flirting.

She smiled at him. He smiled back with one brow cocked. Drat. He must have heard.

He walked toward her and bowed, his blue eyes taking her in from head to toe. “Lady Priscilla. You look stunning.”