Page 26 of Not His Usual Style (Diamonds of London #10)
Portland House
Fitzroy Square
The soft pitter patter of the rain on the roof of the carriage couldn’t soothe her anxious feelings, and perhaps there was good reason for that.
Earlier in the day, she had held serious discussions with her father, and it was decided between them that the best thing was for her to depart for France tomorrow after the ball.
Especially since Bow Street would no doubt pay them a visit tomorrow as well.
She’d neglected to bring Montague into the conversation, for it didn’t matter the state of her heart; she had her mission, and he was to marry.
None of it had changed despite what they’d shared between them.
“Worried about the journey to France?”
“Partially, yes. It’s quite frightening, and I’ll have a maid with me for conversation.
” She sighed. “And you’ll be with me as well.
That is something.” Her dear father had managed to secure tickets on a ship to go across the Channel for tomorrow, boarding at six o’clock in the evening.
After that, they would hopefully meet with the ambassador and secure travel arrangements from that point.
“Well, someone needs to protect you and that necklace.” He shook his head. “And since our ambassador is already there, perhaps we can have an audience with him, and he’ll help our way into seeing the king.”
“It would prove most helpful, yes, but for right now, I intend to enjoy myself at this ball.” As the carriage inched its way forward toward the house, she gazed out the window.
“For what it’s worth, you are quite lovely in that golden gown.”
She allowed a smile as she pulled the edges of her satin lined ivory cape tighter about her shoulders.
“Thank you. I feel a bit like royalty in it.” The gold silk featured tiny clear glass beads and equally tiny golden spangles all over the whole of the garment, and the low bodice was lined with gold-dyed lace.
“It’s the most expensive thing I’ve ever owned.
” To say nothing of the pearl earbobs that dangled from her lobs and the crushed diamond encrusted combs in her hair that helped to secure her elaborately dressed upswept style.
Short sleeves hung just off her shoulders, and that took a bit of acclimation.
A matching reticule and golden embroidered slippers completed the ensemble.
When the gown had been delivered earlier that day, exquisite fine lawn undergarments had been tucked into the box along with silk stockings and long gloves that went to her elbow.
“The earl must think quite highly of you if he didn’t mind the expense of a whole toilette.”
Heat slapped at her cheeks. “I don’t know about that. He wanted to see me tonight, and perhaps if I’m fortunate, he will ask me to dance.”
“Oh, I’ll wager he will indeed.” Her father winked. “And then some.”
“Do stop.” Yet the warmth in her cheeks remained.
Tonight, she would enjoy herself with the handsome earl, and she would block everything else from her mind.
Montague was her ideal in every way, but he was engaged to be married on the morrow.
This would be their last night together, and knowing that sent an ache around her heart that was so acute, it stole her breath.
Why couldn’t we have met sooner?
Not that it would have done much good, for he’d let slip shortly upon their first meeting that he’d been engaged to Lady Sarah for many years.
The carriage was nearly to the offloading point.
Knots of worry pulled in her belly. “Oh, Papa, I’ve done something far too stupid and have fallen in love with Greystone.” It was good to have admitted it, but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better.
A man who wasn’t free.
“Love is never silly, my darling girl.”
“I’m feeling wretched, so pardon me if I don’t believe you.” Perhaps a broken heart was the payment demanded for knowing an intense love even for a handful of days.
Then there was no time for further conversation, for the vehicle came to a halt and a footman at the curb opened the door then put down the steps in front of the free-standing house, which is what many of the homes were in this area.
Her father exited first. Once he turned, he extended a hand and assisted her from the carriage.
She held the skirt of her beautiful gown above the muck on the street until they were welcomed into the house, and by the time she and her father had entered the large ballroom, she rather felt as if they were in a completely different world.
“Good heavens, this is quite lavish, isn’t it?” she breathed to her father after they cleared the reception line and met their hosts.
“Well, when one is a duke, one spares no expense.”
She tossed him a glance. “No being tempted by the card tables tonight, Papa. We are nearly solvent and might be in a few months if we’re careful.” At least they were the last time she’d looked at the ledger books.
“I promise.”
Everywhere she looked, an autumnal theme met her gaze.
So many vases and baskets full of flowers in shades of yellow, orange, rust, and red rested on small tables and Roman-style pedestals about the room.
Swags of the same along with branches from oak trees had been fastened over windows and doorways.
The arrangements were enhanced by fruits as well as silk birds and gauze bows.
“This must have taken ages to decorate.”
“They have an army of servants, poppet.”
Murmurs went through the crush, and moments later, she realized many of the guests were peering at her. “Am I truly that much of a sensation?” It was quite rubbish having that many eyes on her, but there was nowhere to hide.
“You are everything lovely and angelic. Enjoy the stares,” her father said with a cheeky grin. “I always tell you that you could have exactly this if you would just consent to going out into society more often.”
“I don’t want the attention.” At least not from the men in the crowd who regarded her as if she were only good enough to grace their arms and warm their beds, too far beneath them in station to actually wed.
Her father patted her hand that rested on his arm.
“I hope this night gains you everything you’ve ever wanted, pet.
” His smile was a bit sad about the edges.
“You’ve seemed quite happy and more full of life for the past handful of days, and I can only guess it’s because of the earl.
” A sigh escaped him. “Though I would have liked for it to have been due to a man you have a chance with.”
“Me too.” Her own smile felt forced and a bit sad.
“I think my luck is eternally bad in that regard, always choosing men that I shouldn’t.
” As she spoke, the opening waltz began with a handful of couples on the parquet floor, including the ducal couple as well as Greystone and Lady Sarah, since the ball was being held in their honor.
“But oh, look how handsome he is tonight!” she said in a quiet voice.
“With his back so straight and his hair prone to curling and the way the tailcoat stretches over his shoulders.” A shiver of need went down her spine.
Why can’t he be mine? Perhaps if only for tonight.
“None of that now. You look like royalty, and can easily outshine many of the women in attendance.” He snorted with derision. “The lady doesn’t seem in an overly festive mood tonight when she’s with Greystone.”
Sadly, Lady Sarah didn’t know how lovely the earl truly was.
But she didn’t say that aloud. “Thank you, Papa, for the compliment.” With much willpower, Tori tamped down on the urge to cry.
“I wish Mama could see me. She would say I fell out of a fairytale book, or that I was pretty enough to garner at least three offers in one night.”
“That she would.” His eyes went misty. “Your mother would be so proud. She did so want you to marry well, but she also wanted you to be happy.” Then her father noticed one of his clients, who waved. “Excuse me, poppet. I’m going to talk with Mr. Putnam, and no, I won’t go to the tables.”
As soon as the opening waltz ended, a country reel set up, and she was pressed by a few men to partner.
Selecting one of them—for it didn’t matter much to her and she’d not yet seen the earl outside of partnering Lady Sarah—Tori indulged in the reel.
She’d forgotten how lovely the exercise of dancing truly was, but it wouldn’t make her spend more time in society.
That simply wasn’t the type of woman she was.
Her partner was congenial enough, but he wasn’t Montague, and she only had eyes for him anyway.
When he escorted her over to the sidelines, she gave him a polite thank you but didn’t commit to another dance later in the evening.
However, before she could contemplate what to do next, Montague was there before her, and she stared up at him with absolutely no thoughts in her brain, for he was that stunning in evening dress with a sapphire stick pin in the snowy folds of his cravat.
“Good evening, Miss Amherst.” Admiration was clear in the chocolate depths of his eyes. “I am glad you came.”
She couldn’t help her grin. “You are?”
“Of course.” The earl glanced about to make sure no one paid them attention. “Our last meeting from yesterday was far too brief and not nearly as satisfying as I would have liked. To say nothing of the fact that these past few days have been quite… entertaining and…”
“Yes?” She could hardly force the word out, for her heartbeat raced so quickly and loudly through her veins.
“…eye opening.” Yet he raked his gaze over her person, and those dear eyes of his darkened slightly. “My God, but you are stunning tonight in gold. I trust you visited my modiste?”
“I did. She was quite helpful, and I must say, I’ve never owned or even worn something this lovely.”
“It looks as if it was made for you.” When his gaze came back to hers, it was quite obvious he approved. “I want to call out every man who is looking at you right now.”