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"I am composed," Henry protested. "I don't think I have ever been quite this composed in my life."
"Then un-compose yourself." Belle took Henry's hands in an urgent embrace. "Henry, I've never seen your eyes look so dead. I'm sorry to have to say it that way, but it's the truth. There is nothing to fear. Everyone will love you. Just go in there and be yourself." She paused. "Except for the cursing."
A reluctant smile quivered on Henry's lips.
"And leave off talk of farming," Belle added quickly. "Especially that bit about the pig."
Henry could feel the sparkle returning to her eyes. "Oh, Belle, I do love you. You have been such a good friend."
"You make it very easy," Belle returned, giving her hands an affectionate squeeze. "Are you ready? Good. Dunford and Alex are going to escort you in together. That should ensure you make a big splash. Before Alex married, they were the two most eligible gentlemen in the country."
"But Dunford didn't even have a title."
"It didn't matter. The ladies wanted him anyway."
Henry understood all too well why. But he didn't want her. At least not in any permanent way. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over her as she glanced at him. She suddenly felt an overwhelming need to prove to herself that she was worthy of love, even if Dunford did not agree. Her chin moved up a notch, and a dazzling smile crossed her face. "I'm ready, Belle. I am going to have a lovely time."
Belle looked slightly taken aback by Henry's sudden vehemence. "Let's be on our way then. Dunford! Alex! John! We're ready to go in."
The three gentlemen reluctantly broke off their conversation, and Henry found herself flanked by Dunford and Alex. She felt terribly small; both men were a good inch over six feet and rather broad through the shoulders. She knew she was going to be the envy of every lady in the ballroom; she hadn't met too many men of the ton, but surely most of them lacked the sheer virility of the three men in her party.
They made their way inside and waited in line for the butler to announce them. Without even realizing it, Henry began to move closer and closer to Alex's side, pulling away from Dunford. Finally Alex leaned down and whispered, "Are you all right, Henry? It's almost our turn."
Henry turned and flashed him the same stunning smile she'd just used on Belle. "I am perfect, your grace. Perfect. I am going to slay London. I shall have the ton at my feet."
Dunford heard her words and stiffened, pulling her back toward him. "Watch what you do, Henry," he whispered cuttingly. "It wouldn't do for you to make your entrance draped over Ashbourne. It's common knowledge he's devoted to his wife."
"Don't worry," she returned with an insincere grin. "I won't embarrass you. And I promise to be off your hands as soon as possible. I shall endeavor to have dozens of marriage proposals. By next week if I can."
Alex had an idea what was going on, and his lips twitched. He was not so honorable that he was not enjoying Dunford's distress.
"Lord and Lady Blackwood!" the butler boomed.
Henry's breath caught in her throat. They were next.
Alex nudged her playfully and whispered, "Smile."
"His grace, the Duke of Ashbourne! Lord Stannage! Miss Henrietta Barrett!"
A hush fell over the crowd. Henry was not so vain and deluded as to think the ton had lost their voices over her incomparable beauty, but she did know that they were all dying to get a look at the lady who'd somehow managed to make her debut on the arms of two of the most desirable men in Britain.
The five friends then made their way over to Caroline, further ensuring Henry's success by proclaiming to the world that the influential Countess of Worth was sponsoring her.
Within minutes Henry was surrounded by young men and women, all eager to make her acquaintance. The men were curious—who was this unknown female and how had she managed to snare the attention of both Dunford and Ashbourne? (The on-dit that she was Dunford's legal ward had yet to circulate.) The women were even more curious—for exactly the same reason.
Henry laughed and flirted, teased and sparkled. By sheer force of will she managed to push Dunford from her mind. She pretended each man she met was Alex or John, and each woman was Belle or Caroline. This mental ruse allowed her to relax and be herself—and once she did that, people warmed to her instantly.
"She is a breath of fresh air," Lady Jersey declared, not caring in the least that she was being terribly trite.
Dunford overheard this comment and tried to be proud of his ward, but he couldn't manage it over the irritating possessiveness he felt every time some young fop kissed her hand. And that was nothing compared to the searing spurts of jealousy that rocked through him every time she smiled at one of the many older, more experienced men who also flocked to her side.
Caroline was just now introducing her to the Earl of Billington, a man he usually liked and respected. Damn it, that was the same cheeky smile she usually gave him. Dunford made a mental note not to sell Billington the prized Arabian he'd been nosing after all spring.
"I see your ward has made quite a killing."
Dunford turned his head to see Lady Sarah-Jane Wolcott. "Lady Wolcott," he said, lazily inclining his head.
"She's quite a success."
"Yes, she is."
“You must be proud.”
He managed a curt nod.
"I must say, I wouldn't have predicted it. Not that she isn't attractive," Lady Wolcott hastened to add. "But she is not in the usual style."
Dunford fixed a deadly stare upon her. "In looks or in personality?"