Page 30 of The Captain’s Valentine (The “Other” Trents #3)

Harrison tossed the newssheet aside, not at all pleased that his name had appeared in the article as the captain who had found the missing nephew of the Duke of Clare, but at least his entire life had not been detailed for the readers as Perdita’s and the other Valentines had. The author had also gone into the details of the twins being taken and why, along with the murders. No doubt such a salacious article would draw the attention of every matron of the ton.

He glanced over at the stack of invitations that had arrived today, which was proof of his assumption.

He also knew that the story had not come from Perdita but from Her Grace, the Duchess of Clare.

To what purpose, he was not certain, but so much attention on a family, no matter the reasons, was never good in Society.

Had Her Grace even considered potential consequences or did she want her family name to be on every wagging tongue?

Worse, how had Perdita reacted when she read the article?

The need to protect rose and he knew that it came from love. He also feared that with everything that Perdita had experienced of late that she might change or lose some of her joy.

She had found the positive with her lot in life, but did she still feel the same?

He’d witnessed the two teas with Her Grace, and now this article…

Harrison sat back in his chair and pushed his fingers through his hair.

He loved her and wanted to protect her from everything, but she had no idea as to the depth of his feelings for her, and he had not believed the time was right to tell her.

He needed to tell her. He wanted to tell her but feared that such a confession would send her away instead of bring her close. She needed a friend. But what if she realized that was all she wanted, even though she had claimed to care for him more than a simple friend?

It did not matter what he wanted. What did was what Perdita needed, so he left his ship and made his way to Felding’s home. There was a chance that Perdita might not be there, especially if she kept the appointment with the modiste, but he needed to learn what he could.

However, what he found was not only Perdita, but the Valentine siblings who were still in London and Lord Cormac. Worse, Perdita was irritated.

He truly missed the early days when Perdita was simply happy, joyful, and always smiled.

“Captain Trent,”

Lady Felding greeted. “It is good of you to call.”

“Have you read the newssheets?”

Perdita asked.

“I have.”

“I am sorry that you were mentioned and I hope that it has not invited unwanted attention.”

“I simply found Oliver and nothing else was said.”

He stepped toward her. “The question is, how do you fare?”

Perdita blew out a sigh and plopped into a chair. “I am sorry that everyone has had to or may suffer because of me.”

“It is not you,”

Lady Felding reminded her, to which Harrison agreed. If anyone owed an apology, it was the Duchess of Claire. He also knew that it would never come.

“I just wish…She could have at least asked, but it appears that even that is too much.”

What was she to do about that woman?

Was there even a chance that they could have some form of agreeable relationship?

While Perdita had no intention of turning her back on her Valentine family, she would like to come to know her mother, as a mother, not a woman who made decisions for her.

Then again, it had only been three days and both of them were likely set in their ways and perhaps all they needed was some time and understanding. At least she hoped that the woman who had given birth to her could find a way to accept Perdita.

“I will try again tomorrow,”

she finally said with a smile. “Even if Her Grace will not try to know me, I will endeavor to appreciate her. She did give birth to me and even though I may not agree with her intentions, or with what she expects of me, I will try to forge a relationship.”

“I wish you well, and luck, Cara,”

Lord Cormac offered in a doubtful tone.

“Thank you, Cormac.”

Perdita grinned. “However, I should also warn that I may be coming to you for advice in the future.”

“Which I will happily give.”

At least there was one Gallagher who was supportive, though no doubt His Grace and his sister were as well, just quietly and without their mother being any wiser.

“Will we be attending the Henderson ball this evening or would you rather remain in?”

Rosalind asked to those who were gathered.

As she always enjoyed balls and dancing, Perdita was looking forward to the entertainment. “I would like to attend.”

She turned to Harrison. “Did you receive an invitation?”

“I did,”

he answered.

“Will you be in attendance?”

“If you will be, then I will as well, so long as you save me a dance.”

Perdita couldn’t help but smile. “Of course.”

He was the only person she wished to dance with and intended to save the supper dance for him and hoped that he claimed it.

Harrison stood. “I will see you this evening.”

He then exited and Perdita made her way upstairs to prepare for the ball.

Yes, she was going to put everything that happened behind her. It did not matter who gave her birth, or who she was raised with, she was still the same person she had always been. This was not the first upset in her life and it would not be the last. In fact, her life was a blessing for if it had not been for Demetrius, Benedick and Orlando, she might have died and never experienced twenty-three wonderful years, nor would she have met Harrison.

She held on to the positivity until she stepped inside the Henderson Ballroom and suddenly held the attention of everyone in the room.

This was not something Perdita was used to. Before she had not mattered. Now that her story had been printed in the newssheets, she was suddenly someone to know.

“Do you wish to leave?”

Rosalind whispered to her.

Perdita searched the room for Harrison. He was who she needed by her side, except she could not find him and for the first time, panic fluttered in her chest. In fact, her throat wanted to close as people crowded around her.

They were too close and she took a step back.

“I need to leave,”

she whispered to Rosalind.

“Of course.”

Her sister linked her arm with Perdita to pull her from the room only to be brought to a stop when they came face to face with Her Grace.

“Lady Cara,”

She greeted.

“Your Grace.”

She dropped to a curtsey, as did Rosalind.

“Were you leaving?”

“Yes. I find it a bit…”

Perdita looked around, attention still on her and Her Grace.

“Crowded,”

Rosalind offered. “Perdita does not like to be in a crush, which this has turned out to be.”

“Nonsense!”

Her Grace announced then took Perdita’s arm from Rosalind and pulled her away from the entrance she had been walking toward. “Since your story appeared in the newssheets, people will be anxious to come to know you.”

“They had no interest before; therefore, I have no interest now.”

“Such a naive child,”

Her Grace chided.

“Not a child,”

Perdita argued through clenched teeth and turned to search for assistance. Thankfully Rosalind followed closely behind but was helpless to rescue her.

“We shall stand where you can be greeted. I do hope you have your dance card at the ready.”

“I would like to leave, Your Grace.”

“You, will not,”

she said through a tight smile.

“You cannot force me to remain.”

“Do you truly wish to make a fuss, Cara? Was one story not enough?”

What did she mean?

“If you leave my side now and walk out of the ball, more gossip will appear in the papers except this time it will not be favorable to you.”

Was she being blackmailed to remain? Further, wouldn’t anything negative written about Perdita also be seen as negative for Her Grace? However, Perdita did mind if anything affected her siblings and therefore remained, for now.

Rosalind, thank goodness, chose to stand beside her as gentlemen approached. They were the very gentlemen who had given her little to no notice previously. Some she had danced with but it had been nothing more. Now that she was a lady, apparently she was worth knowing.

Were those in Society truly so shallow?

Of course they were, she answered her own question.

Then, after each introduction, even though many she had already met, gentlemen requested a dance and she offered her card, except she refused to give anyone the supper dance.

“He is to be a duke,”

Her Grace hissed after one gentleman walked away, having settled for a country dance.

“It is taken,”

Perdita repeated what she had said to every gentleman requesting that dance.

“There is no name there. Who could have claimed it?”

She did not dare tell Her Grace that she hoped that Harrison would arrive and request a dance. “It is yet to be determined but I have no intention of being stuck with a waltz and then dinner with a gentleman in which I have no interest or do not know well. I am very particular as to who shares that dance and nothing will change that circumstance.”

Her Grace sniffed but at least she did not argue further.

Oh, where was Harrison? She needed him here and not only to dance, but to rescue her.